'Will _you_ try your hand ?' added he, holding out the pen.
'Why, I'm busy just now, you see,' said he, pointing to his cigar, 'and that horse of yours' (Jack had ridden the redoubtable chestnut, Multum-in-Parvo, who had gone very well in the company of Hercules) pulled so confoundedly that I've almost lost the use of my fingers,' continued he, working away as if he had got the cramp in both hands; 'but I'll prompt you,' added he, 'I'll prompt you.' 'Why don't you begin then ?' asked Sponge.
'Begin!' exclaimed Jack, taking the cigar from his lips; 'begin!' repeated he, 'oh, I'll begin directly--didn't know you were ready.' Jack then threw himself back in his chair, and sticking out his little bandy legs, turned the whites of his eyes up to the ceiling, as if lost in meditation.
'Begin,' said he, after a pause, 'begin, "This splendid pack had a stunning run."' 'But we must put _what_ pack first,' observed Sponge, writing the words 'Mr.Puffington's hounds' at the top of the paper.

'Well,' said he, writing on, 'this stunning pack had a splendid run.' 'No, not stunning _pack_,' growled Jack, '_splendid_ pack--"this splendid pack had a stunning run."' 'Stop!' exclaimed Sponge, writing it down; 'well,' said he looking up, 'I've got it.' 'This stunning pack had a splendid run,' repeated Jack, squinting away at the ceiling.
'I thought you said _splendid_ pack,' observed Sponge.
'So I did,' replied Jack.
'You said stunning just now,' rejoined he.
'Ah, that was a slip of the tongue,' said Jack.

'This splendid pack had a stunning run,' repeated Jack, appealing again to his cigar for inspiration; 'well, then,' said he, after a pause, 'you just go on as usual, you know,' continued he, with a flourish of his great red hand.
'As usual!' exclaimed Sponge, 'you don't s'pose one's pen goes of itself.' 'Why, no,' replied Jack, knocking the ashes off his cigar on to the arabesque-patterned tapestry carpet--'why, no, not exactly; but these things, you know, are a good deal matter of course; just describe what you saw, you know, and butter Puff well, that's the main point.' 'But you forget,' replied Sponge, 'I don't know the country, I don't know the people, I don't know anything at all about the run--I never once looked at the hounds.' 'That's nothin',' replied Jack, 'there'd be plenty like you in that respect.

However,' continued he, gathering himself up in his chair as if for an effort, 'you can say--let me see what you can say--you can say, "this splendid pack had a stunning run from Hollyburn Hanger, the property of its truly popular master, Mr.Puffington," or--stop,' said Jack, checking himself, 'say, "the property of its truly popular and sporting master, Mr.Puffington." The cover's just as much mine as it's his,' observed Jack; 'it belongs to old Sir Timothy Tensthemain, who's vegetating at Boulogne-sur-Mer, but Puff says he'll buy it when it comes to the hammer, so we'll flatter him by considering it his already, just as we flatter him by calling him a sportsman--_sportsman_!' added Jack, with a sneer, 'he's just as much taste for the thing as a cow.' 'Well,' said Sponge, looking up, 'I've got "truly popular and sporting master, Mr.Puffington,"' adding, 'hadn't we better say something about the meet and the grand spread here before we begin with the run ?' 'True,' replied Jack, after a long-drawn whiff and another adjustment of the end of his cigar; 'say that "a splendid field of well-appointed sportsmen"-- ' 'A splendid field of well-appointed sportsmen,' wrote Sponge.
'"Among whom we recognized several distinguished strangers and members of Lord Scamperdale's hunt." That means you and I,' observed Jack.
'"Of Lord Scamperdale's hunt--that means you and I"'-- read Sponge, as he wrote it.
'But you're not to put in that; you're not to write "that means you and I," my man,' observed Jack.
'Oh, I thought that was part of the sentence,' replied Sponge.
'No, no,' said Jack; 'I meant to say that you and I were the distinguished strangers and members of Lord Scamperdale's hunt; but that's between ourselves, you know.' 'Good,' said Sponge; 'then I'll strike that out,' running his pen through the words 'that means you and I.' 'Now get on,' said he, appealing to Jack, adding, 'we've a deal to do yet.' 'Say,' said Jack, '"after partaking of the well-known profuse and splendid hospitality of Hanby House, they proceeded at once to Hollyburn Hanger, where a fine seasoned fox--though some said he was a bag one--"' 'Did they ?' exclaimed Sponge, adding, 'well, I thought he went away rather queerly.' 'Oh, it was only old Bung the brewer, who runs down every run he doesn't ride.' 'Well, never mind,' replied Sponge, 'we'll make the best of it, whatever it was'; writing away as he spoke, and repeating the words 'bag one' as he penned them.
'"Broke away,"' continued Jack: '"In view of the whole field,"' added Sponge.

'Just so,' assented Jack.
'"Every hound scoring to cry, and making the "-- the--the--what d'ye call the thing ?' asked Jack.
'Country,' suggested Sponge.
'No,' replied Jack, with a shake of the head.
'Hill and dale ?' tried Sponge again.
'Welkin!' exclaimed Jack, hitting it off himself--'"makin' the welkin ring with their melody!" makin' the welkin ring with their melody,' repeated he, with exultation.
'Capital!' observed Sponge, as he wrote it.
'Equal to Littlelegs,'[2] said Jack, squinting his eyes inside out.
'We'll make a grand thing of it,' observed Sponge.
'So we will,' replied Jack, adding, 'if we had but a book of po'try we'd weave in some lines here.